Saturday, January 28, 2012

Thursday, January 26, 2012

I saw on Yahoo! that Bryan "Birdman aka Baby" Williams posted on his Twitter account that he wanted to wager $5 million on the Patriots to win (no mention of against the spread or the money line). "Birdman" was listed on Forbes as having made $15 million last year. For the record, my self imposed nickname of "Slap Dick," a combination of my humor and my affinity for playing with my penis, is much better than "Birdman aka Baby." But my favorite comment listed below the article: Anyone else just suddenly become a Giants fan for no reason?

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

I've had three beers the last two nights. Monday, after a full Sunday of NFL playoffs and a Gold Rush marathon, I didn't even feel like drinking. Tuesday, just out of habit, I had three beers right after work. Just with this small, small two day sample I've noticed two things. The first wuld be the totally fucked up dreams I've had. Ex girlfriends, ex girlfriends families, reliving meetings at work (and what I wanted to say at them, with no employment consequences), encounters with my family, extended family included that I haven't seen in years, you name it, my overactive brain cells have thought it (the ten or so cells that are left). The second thing I've noticed, which contradicts the dreaming/sleeping frustrations, is that I'm wiped out by 7:00 pm. You would think, after barely being able to keep my eyes open watching Marquette dismantle Central Florida, that going to sleep at 10:00 wouldn't be a problem. I'm going to guess cutting out 2,000 calories would lead to the 7:00 lack of energy.

Isn't the average caloric intake for a man supposed to be 2,000? I'm sure I eat that at the cafeteria at work every day and just double it for desert (beer) when I get home.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

I feel a little bad. Most of my posts this last year have come from my cell phone. Short posts, kind of like the Twitter of blogging. Twitter, I still don't know what that's all about.

I've fired up my laptop about six times in the last six months. So posting from my phone, full keyboard and all, the posts have been short, to the point.

Life on my end over here is ok. I've been doing nothing much, and much of nothing. More or less trying to keep friends that I have, certainly not making new friends. I mean, it's me, for God's sake. Unless there are willing and able/flexible ladies out there...

It's coming to that time to send the FA $5,000 for the Roth-I-can't-touch-till-I'm-old-IRA. But the thing is, I don't know if I'll get old. I turn 35 this year. I'd like to think, conservatively thinking, that this is the halfway point. Why sock away that much cash that you may or may not even use, or get to use without tax penalties, in the future? Not like I'd just blow $5,000, but to have it locked in for 25 years? 25 years. Wow. I've done it every other year in the past, but now I think I'm, I don't know, more conservative, or more drunk, one or the other, to put money away like that that I can't touch. More than likely more drunk, if that's even possible.

I think the Renter raped me today. Here's how it started...

A friend plowed out my driveway today. I felt obligated to have some beers, at his request, for plowing the snow. What started as a 10:00 outing lasted most of the afternoon. And multiple bars. And multiple beers. The first bar wasn't open yet so we hit another. Once 11:00 passed we went to the bar with the nice bathroom, good shitters and all. After drinking there for free (we offered our other friend's snow shovelling services), we went to yet another bar, and another. To top it off we went to the Mexican restaurant that the old corner bar manager recently opened. I drunkenly said "Hi" to her kid, her hubby, ordered the steak tacos and made my way out. I know them too well, too well to be that tipsy in their establishment. I think their son looks up to me to a point, I don't know why, well, being sexy and well liked by everyone, but that's not the point. Sexy, yes, but...

I got home. The Renter was in the shower. I went to go lay down in my bed, drunk, tired. The Renter, she, she, took my pants off and straddled me. She fondled my nether regions till it grew to it's full eleven inches. I felt like I was back in sixth grade when Mr., I mean Mrs. Shroeder kept me after class, extra credit and all.. He, I mean she, said I was his, er her, best student. Extra credit was good, back in the days. Extra. Credit.

But today, the Renter, the raper. Looking back on it now, wasn't that bad. A little too much work on my part, though. I admit it, I was on top for a bit, but only by force. Somehow she forced me to put my eleven inch appendage in her multiple, multiple times, but Barney Stinsen like, she left afterwards, left better friends, better conversations (certainly not better sex, I mean rapeage). I don't blame her. Good for her. The raper. Unfortunately I didn't orgasm, no physical evidence.

Scene of the crime. A great 80's "Who Done It."

So this is what happens when i actually pull out the laptop and spend some time on this website.

We had our work holiday party last night. However, because we had about four inches of light and fluffy snow, the staff turnout was a little poor. The city streets wound up being as messy as the last time I thought I was going to let a light and fluffy fart slip out. Not pretty.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

I haven't been going out much lately. I used to go out every night to the bar that was 60 steps from my house but since it closed I've been staying home most nights. I still get out on the weekends, but $.44 Milwaukee's Best Light are the norm now. I think this whole American economy has another downturn coming. If I'm not spending money, cheap as I am, who is?

Needless to say I went out on Tuesday night. The bar I went to had $1.50 tacos, the whole Taco Tuesday thing. They were busy so I just ordered two around 7:00. They stopped serving at 10:00 and since it didn't look like anyone else was getting them I asked if they still had taco meat left and ordered four more. I was trying to help out a small bar while filling my stomach.

I was late to work on Wednesday. What I initially thought would end up spewing out my mouth came out my ass, with force. Worse than the last time I had the flu.

After getting to work late I spent another 30 minutes on the shitter. Thankfully after 10:00 my system leveled out and I felt better, but that lesson will live with me forever: do not get food from a bar that doesn't cook food seven days a week.

Wednesday, January 04, 2012

My New Year's Resolution for 2012 is to put more effort into lifting weights in the basement. I've used this tender elbow as an excuse for the past six months but that has to stop. I've finally figured out what I can and can't do as far as not making my elbow worse and now that I know this I should be ok. The ultimate goal, unlike most people, is to actually gain weight, get back to 230 lbs so I can fill out my suits again. Nothing worse than being in a meeting with an ill fitting suit. Just ask Barney Stinsen.